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| LOVE not, love not, ye hapless sons of clay! |
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| Hope’s gayest wreaths are made of earthly flow’rs— |
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| Things that are made to fade and fall away, |
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| When they have blossom’d but a few short hours. |
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| Love not, love not! | 5 |
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| Love not, love not! The thing you love may die— |
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| May perish from the gay and gladsome earth; |
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| The silent stars, the blue and smiling sky, |
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| Beam on its grave as once upon its birth. |
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| Love not, love not! | 10 |
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| Love not, love not! The thing you love may change, |
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| The rosy lip may cease to smile on you; |
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| The kindly beaming eye grow cold and strange; |
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| The heart still warmly beat, yet not be true. |
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| Love not, love not! | 15 |
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| Love not, love not! O warning vainly said |
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| In present years, as in the years gone by! |
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| Love flings a halo round the dear one’s head, |
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| Faultless, immortal—till they change or die! |
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| Love not, love not! | 20 |
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